Not Meant for Your Ears
by AzikaRue394
Summary: Max wasn't thinking when he snuck into the Saint Shields' hideout. And he certainly didn't think about how significant one accidental push of a button could become. For RedWheeler.


This one's for RedWheeler. I've asked her countless times if she had any requests and when she asked me to do something with Max, Mariam, and an intercom, I couldn't very well say no. The request made me giggle; so many possibilities, but I finally settled on this one idea.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. I do own several Agatha Christie novels, but I don't _own_ own them.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Not Meant for Your Ears**_

"So this is what being in love does to a guy..."

A lot of people (most actually) would find what Max was doing either pathetic or disturbing. He preferred to call it dedicated. He just hoped Mariam would see it the same way.

Max did his best not to make a sound, though he wasn't sure why. It's not like a small woodland crack of a branch or footstep would alert the occupants of the warehouse to his presence. You can never be too sure with Dunga around though...and Joseph, he heard everything. Really none of them were ones to be certain about.

Still stepping carefully, the lovestruck young man poked his head cautiously out of the woods. After surveying the area he decided no one was around. Keeping alert, Max half ran, half tiptoed, across the thin patch of grass worn away by beybattle after beybattle. Once he reached the building he threw himself up against it in a spy-like fashion.

Happily he took notice of the indented bricks that graced every foot or so of the outside wall. They'd make nice footholds.

Figuring it was better not to think about what he was doing, Max pulled himself up into the first set of indentations. Gingerly he climbed up the side of the building, not allowing himself to remember that it was only an inch's worth of indents keeping him from falling several feet. He must be at least a story up by now.

The blond paused his ascent to listen to Dunga bickering with someone who must've been Mariam because he had to think more than was comfortable before spitting out a lousy comeback. Max rolled his eyes at the big ape's losing battle against brains and went back to the task at hand.

He'd passed quite a few rows of windows and nearly fallen a time or two before selecting a particularly dingy one to try to climb through. Steadying himself the best that he could on the thin sill, Max pressed his palm against the window pane and pushed upwards. After two or three good heaves there was a wide enough space for him to crawl through.

The room on the other side of the glass was neater than one would expect from the outside appearance. It looked as if somebody had been here recently, lounging among the rickety desk and chair set, an old wardrobe, wood paneled walls, and whatever the odd-looking microphone gadget on the desk was. There were great piles of dust on either side of the hardwood floor, which was in need of a good polishing, showing that someone had swept the place within the last month. Whoever it was hadn't done any better than they had to, the American thought, stifling a sneeze.

Spying a pile of books on the desk, Max closed the window and sauntered over to take a peek. The novels were mostly Agatha Christie's: _The Unexpected Guest_, _And Then There Were None_, _Evil Under the Sun_, and _Cards on the Table_ to name a few. The classic Sherlock Holmes mystery, _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, rounded off the collection. He was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion of whose sanctuary this was.

Thinking he'd better be getting back to the reason he came, he slinked over to the door, freezing to listen intently when he trod on a loose floorboard. Nothing. Luck was with him, he thought, opening the door a crack to peer down the hallway. Well, the left was clear. Biting his lower lip as the door squeaked, he swung it open to check the right.

No sooner had he stuck his head out then two strong arms grabbed his shoulders and marched him back into the dusty chamber. His capturer kicked the door shut behind herself and forced him to sit on the unsteady desk. Tossing down _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_, venomous green pools stared at Max.

"What are you doing here?"

Max's guy instincts told him to tell Mariam she looked hot when she was angry, but he thought better of the idea. Mariam had grown up with guys and quickly tired of such so-called witty remarks.

"I haven't seen you in a while." he said, rather pitifully.

"I would think that even you could go a few days without seeing your secret girlfriend. For this to stay secret we can't meet everyday." Mariam countered, her back turned to Max as she flicked on the light, bathing the room in a dark glow; a light bulb was burnt out.

"Did you like that book?" he motioned to her recently discarded murder mystery.

"Yes. Now quit trying to change the subject!" The Saint Shield scolded. "Why, if you missed me, was it necessary to scale the building?"

"How did you know about that?" A rosy blush tinged Max's cheeks.

"Someone would've seen you otherwise." Her tone was a tad less cross. "Plus I saw a glimpse of you when Dunga and I were arguing. It wasn't weird until I realized we were on the second floor."

Max smiled but quickly became serious when another question occurred to him.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

Mariam's eyes widened in understanding.

"Is _that_ what's got your boxers in a twist then?" she laughed at his intensified blush and taken-aback expression. "My phone's broken, Max."

"Oh." His face fell slightly.

* * *

Dunga was fuming after his argument with Mariam. Who did she think she was insulting him like that? He wasn't an ape.

Joseph watched nonchalantly as his sister marched her way upstairs and Dunga sat looking angrily confused on a pile of crates in the corner. The ape argument had surpassed boring weeks ago; it happened everyday around this time. Even when Mariam had once lost her voice she ended up retreating upstairs, leaving the buffoon to stare murderously at a section of the wall like always. Joseph remembered thinking about how bad at verbal fights Dunga really was.

Ozuma would sit quietly and calmly through every brawl making needed beyblade repairs or reading with a mug of steaming coffee. Joseph didn't know how he couldn't watch. Even though it was dull, predictable, and annoying Joseph couldn't stop himself from watching. It was free entertainment.

The green-haired boy was snapped out of his reverie by the shrill squeal of what sounded like a microphone placed near its speakers ringing throughout the room. Instinctively he slapped his hands over his ears. The noise penetrated even Dunga's thick skull as the brute started slightly and Ozuma cursed as he spilled coffee all over himself.

"What the-?!" Dunga blurted out in his gravelly voice.

"Sounded like that intercom system." Joseph noted.

"But I thought we disconnected that thing!"

"It looks like we missed a wire or two." Ozuma said as he dried himself off with his jacket.

The shortest of the three shushed his older teammates.

"Listen!"

Mariam's voice came clearly across the ancient system.

"I would think that even you could go a few days without seeing your secret girlfriend. For this to stay secret we can't meet everyday."

"What's she talking about?!" Dunga exclaimed loudly, "Who would want to date her?! And why's she keeping it a secret from us?!"

"Maybe because she knew you'd act like this." Ozuma glared at the bulky blader. "And shut up. You yelled right in my ear."

"But-"

"I can't believe she didn't at least tell me." Joseph said. "I'm her brother; she can trust me."

"I would've thought you'd know by now. Don't you have ways of finding stuff out?"

"Yeah, but I never thought that _Mariam_ might be hiding something from me."

"Who would want to date Mariam?!"

"Shut up Dunga." Ozuma growled.

"Is that what's got your boxers in a twist then?" They heard Mariam laugh and then say, "My phone's broken, Max."

"MAX?!"

"It's Dunga's fault it's broken, really, Max. I can't remember what we were fighting about, but I chucked it at him."

"Did it hit him?" Max Tate's voice, whose tone was opposite Mariam's sarcastic one, was easily recognized.

"Right in between his vacantly staring eyes. It's a pity though; I doubt he felt it through his three inch skull."

"Why I oughtta!" Dunga cried, flexing his muscles threateningly.

Joseph's eyes narrowed. "How does she know Max wears boxers? I don't like the sound of that."

* * *

Max laughed openly at Mariam's account of her cell phone breaking. His laughter was so contagious that Mariam soon found herself joining in. it was a good five minutes (no doubt the boys downstairs were getting bored with the constant laughter) before they stopped, clutching aching stomachs.

Reluctantly, Max sighed. "I guess I'd better be going before the rest of your team comes to see where you are."

"I wouldn't worry about them, Maxie. It usually takes hours for anyone to come find me up here." She hopped up on the desk next to her not-so-secret-anymore boyfriend. "If I were you, I'd worry about Tyson. He'll be dragging the others out to look for you soon won't he?"

"He _is_ due." Max shrugged. "I don't think this would be the first place he'd look though."

"Point taken." she acknowledged.

There was a lull in the conversation as they swung their feet back and forth, allowing their heels to rebound off the desk.

"I like your little getaway up here." Max commented after a while. "It's nice and peaceful."

Mariam watched him gaze around contently. "This is where I come to be alone and away from the world. That's why I never bothered to clean the window; it makes it easier to feel blocked off."

The boy nodded dreamily.

"Max?"

"Hm?"

"Where do you go to be alone in your own little world?"

With a deep breath, Max began. "When I'm at my dad's house I like to go up into the attic. The entrance is in the hallway just outside my room. I go up and build a fort around myself with the trunks and boxes and talk to Draciel, read, look through all those things I haven't seen in years, or just sit down and think."

"In our flat in New York the most secluded place I can get is probably my bedroom. When I was younger I used to go pester the doorman. Nowadays I spend my time mostly on the roof. It's a convenient place to train when I'm not with Mom at work; if I practiced inside the people below us would complain."

"What about when you're at Tyson's?" Mariam questioned. "You spend a lot of time there don't you?"

"Yeah. Usually I'll go for a walk when I want to be alone. There's not really anywhere in the dojo where you can successfully hide."

"Yeah." Mariam agreed, knowing from experience how exuberant the Bladebreakers could be.

"Anyway," the blond stretched, "I'd better be going. If it gets much darker I won't be able to climb back down without falling."

"I could try to sneak you out the back." The blunette offered.

"Nah. That's a bit too risky."

"And climbing out a fifth story window isn't?"

"You may have something there, but I'll still take my chances."

"Fine. You win. I'll let you be brave in front of me. At least let me give you a little something to hold you off until I come climbing in your window someday."

"If you insist." Max grinned.

Mariam gently ghosted her lips over Max's teasingly before allowing him to deepen the kiss. He tilted his head, pulling Mariam into the embrace.

"What's going on in here?!"

The couple leaped apart as Ozuma and Dunga barged in led by Joseph.

Mariam went from relaxed and romanced to angrier than any of them had ever seen her before.

"I don't think it's really any of your business!" She was positively livid.

"You kind of made it our business, Mariam." Ozuma pointed out.

"What are you talking about?"

"The intercom's on, Mar." Joseph revealed. "We missed a few wires."

The color drained from Mariam's cheeks.

"Oops." Max murmured, viewing the button he'd accidentally pressed when he'd been thrown onto the desk. Now he knew what that thing was.

The color rose back up into Mariam's cheeks as quickly as it had disappeared.

"Who gave you permission to listen?!"

"It wasn't exactly hard to hear." Joseph sent Max a look. "Didn't you think we'd find out sooner or later anyway?"

"I would have preferred later." she hissed out.

"I can't believe you're dating Max!" Dunga burst out, sounding quite amused. "Isn't he like five years younger than you?"

"Three." Mariam managed through gritted teeth.

"Actually it's more like two and three-quarters." Max added sheepishly.

"You're not helping your case any." Ozuma stared at the unlikely pair. "I'm not getting involved at any rate."

With that the team captain exited.

But Joseph wasn't finished yet. "How do you know he wears boxers?" There was an accusatory lining to his words.

"Maybe you should start with whether or not he was wearing them when she found out, Joseph."

"DUNGA!" Mariam shrieked, throwing a book at his fast retreating form.

* * *

A/N: Ta-da! I hope you liked it! If you did and you haven't read any of RedWheeler's stuff yet, zip on over there and check it out!

Review?

P.S. My sister and I are planning a story that we're going to need Beyblade fanfiction writers' usernames for. None of them will be used in a negative way. This may or may not be the first story on our collaboration account depending if we decide to write it together or not. If any of you are willing to lend your username to our cause, let me know in a review or message. Thanks!


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